Hollow Queen
by thedogstarfoundhiswolf
Summary: In the game of chess, the most powerful piece is the Queen. She can move an unlimited amount of spaces, in any direction, and attack whoever she wants. She is indestructible. She is pure power in a small body. But she is hollow; no emotions. Nothing inside her. She attacks ruthlessly. She was born this way. She was created for destruction. The rules never change. Shisui/OC/Itachi
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys. So, my first Naruto fic. I hope you guys like it, because I'm working really hard on it. I've got a bunch of chapters ready for uploading, but I'm going to update the story sparingly so I don't get ahead of myself. It's all in my trusy notebook. SO NEVER FEAR. Now, there is no specific idea behind this story besides the game of chess, which I love. The Queen, which is the most powerful piece, is kind of the inspiration for my MC. Don't bash her right away. I'm working on my character development skills still, but I quite like her.**

**Anywhoodles, please, enjoy the story, and don't forget to tell me how horrible the prologue was. Because yes, I suck at introductions.**

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Darkness is easy to fall into. It's like a blanket, covering you so completely; it's like a prison. It's an escape. Nothing can be free from darkness. In my dreams that is all I know; it is merely a dark and cold abyss. it never ends; there were no walls. There was simply nothing. It is true oblivion. It is the peace I have sought since my life began.

For what seems like forever, I have been a pawn, a toy; a piece in the game. Used and played, over and over again. The players have no sense for rules and fairness, but I have no voice. I sit. I watch. I listen. I follow orders. I do not question authority. Those who have questions are tossed away and forgotten. We never hear from them again.

Some days go by where I am just a space-keeper. I do not leave my darkness; my confines; my shackles. I am alone, but I am not lonely. I have never known anything but solitude and structure and rules. It has always been and always will be my life. I could recite all the rules as though I were reading them from a book. I had always believed this was never going to change.

And then the rules were broken.


	2. Chapter 2

The moon was shining brilliantly in the night sky, the starts twinkling happily beside the glowing orb, completely oblivious to the world beneath their heavenly domain. I stood in a dark alleyway, scarcely daring to breathe. I was surrounded on all sides.

I couldn't even begin to think about how long I had been running, my pursuers never gaining on me, but never letting me leave their sight, either. I was tired and it was cold out tonight. I was hungry and thirsty. My body was screaming at me to just give up, but giving up was different than surrendering.

Surrendering was an option. Failure was not. I knew that I could not win, not right now. I could have help with a single signal, but I was on my own for now. Twelve men had me, blocking my potential escape routes like mouse traps, baiting me. It was tempting, but demise was a promise, not a threat. I was safe for now, seeing as how I wasn't trying to escape. I was unsure of them, and they were unsure of me. We were at a standstill; a pause in the game; a stalemate.

I considered my options. I had already established that running or fighting back would be in vain; two to twelve was an unfair fight, even if the stronger opponent here was obvious. I had been backed into a corner, and I had little to no options available to me. Negotiating with my enemies was also highly unlikely. I had been chased to this spot, so it was obvious that I was coming with them alive, whether or not I was willing. Surrender seemed to be the most prudent of my choices. If I were to drop my weapons and give up, I could escape with my life and think of a plan later. This didn't end here.

I was not alone. Somewhere, I was being watched.

In the end, the decision was not a hard one to make. When the sound of steel on concrete reached the ears of my enemies, almost instantaneously, my arms were behind my back and my face was slammed against the brick wall to my left. It hurt, but I kept my expression neutral; I did not speak; I allowed myself to be lifted from the ground and hauled over a broad and pointy shoulder that dug painfully into my abdomen. And then they began running.

For hours they ran. For hours upon hours upon hours. Night turned to day, and day descended to night in a continuous cycle. They did not stop, they did not rest, and most importantly, they did not speak. I was now a prisoner, and even the simplest of details about the direction we were headed to could contribute to my escape plans. There was nothing I couldn't use to my benefit as a kunoichi, and they knew this perfectly well.

As they ran, I took notice of the fact that, even in captivity, I was surrounded on all sides, still mounted upon that broad and pointy shoulder. They ran in a circle surrounding my escort and I, a man protecting each point of the star, ready to guard the eastern, western, norther, and southern parts of our group. The others filled in the gaps, serving as backup in case something went wrong. I still wondered why a group this large had been sent after me, if they had been sent at all, and crossing paths had been a mere coincidence. In any case, what was done was done, and it could not be changed.

And so that was that. I kept my eyes cast downwards, counting the steps the man had taken as he ran in the direction of what I assumed was his home village so I could be chained and tossed into a room.

Five hundred thousand steps, and were still running, though the pace had slowed slightly. Dawn was breaking, turning the sky different shades of red, orange, and blue. When my captors stopped running entirely, I closed my eyes.

"Hokage-sama," the man holding me said. I knew it was him, mainly because I could feel the vibrations from his deep voice against my legs, which were secured against his chest. "The girl, as you requested."

"Well done, Funeno. Let her down," an even older man's voice said, further away. "And go home, all of you. After your long journey, you deserve some rest. A job well done."

Not as gently as I would have preferred, the man who had been called Funeno lifted me from his shoulder, sat me at a nearby chair, restrained me, and departed without a second glance, his men following him.

The Hokage did not speak, but I could feel his eyes on me. One, two, three, four; we were not alone. Two on the roof, one in the room, and one outside the door. I did not think that a girl in my current state could be worth so much precaution, but I didn't think on it too much.

"I can sense your confusion, girl."

I did not respond. Rule number one: only answer direct questions.

"What is your name?"

Rule number two: never answer a question directly.

"I am no one."

It was my turn to sense his confusion. He stood, his wooden chair screeching against the floor. It was not a pleasant sound, though despite my curiosity, I did not open my eyes. The people surrounding us, the calm air that surrounded the leader of this village, and the sounds he was making on purpose was not enough to make me open my eyes. It was dark, and I liked it that way.

"This can be difficult, or this can be easy. Your choice."

Rule number three: you have no choices.

The room was silent. Neither I nor the Hokage spoke. He was waiting for an answer, and I for my sentence. It should not be too far off now.

"This is your last chance. I do not control what happens to those who are unwilling to cooperate."

A bluff. I opened my eyes. "Rule number four: you cannot change destiny."


	3. Chapter 3

**Just info for the future: the chapters get longer! They'll alternate between short and long, mainly because that's how I designed them. I wrote the outline in my notebook, and typing them out was when I was going to fill them with detail. So please be patient with the pace it's going. Thank you! I hope you enjoy this new chapter!**

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I knew it was all in my head. For years, I had been trained for this moment. Drills and tests, over and over again, going over which method was more effective and learning how to make it the least effective. But there was so many things wrong with that type of training. Comrades will hold back; enemies have no such limitations.

The room was lit a dull red, but I had only glimpsed at it once. I kept my eyes closed so I couldn't see, but my senses were on fire. I could feel everything. My nerves were bundled and frayed at the edges. If they knew I was about to give up, they didn't let on. They continued raising the temperature to the point where I was practically being suffocated, then they would drop it until I was freezing. Fires were lit at the highest temperatures, and the air was turned on when it was the coldest. I had thrown up twice, but I could honestly say I had yet to break.

I deserved an award.

"What is your name?"

I was silent, biting down on my lip. My eyes were still closed. I could see lights flashing behind my eyelids. I didn't know what they were trying to do, and I didn't want to know. They had interrogation experts in here, torturing me and trying to forcefully get information. They had people who could get into my mind and take it themselves; see it all with their own eyes.

But what was I supposed to tell them? I knew one thing, and one thing only, and it was very precious to me. If I was going to protect something about myself, it was going to be that one thing.

"I have no name."

Wrong answer.

"Where are you from?"

"I have no home."

Wrong answer.

A loud crack echoed around the room, and suddenly, my face was stinging and throbbing.

"Calm down, we'll break her eventually," someone hissed.

"We've been at this long enough!" A man roared. "Tell us, girl, who are you and where are you from?"

I was still in shock about being slapped. It was the first physical pain I had felt since being here. Not once had they laid their hands on me. I didn't know if it was because they were being nice or what, but it all came to me as a shock nonetheless. I had not expected it. This was not something I had anticipated happening, and yet it had.

"What do you want from me?" I whispered, lowering my head. I opened my eyes and stared down at my lap. There was nothing there. From what I could see, I looked the same as I had before I had been brought here. The room was still red, and that flashing like was still flying around us in what I assumed was a circle. I had heard about the interrogation and torture methods of the different villages.

The room was silent; my voice had surprised them. The men in this room had never heard my voice before.

I could feel my body shaking. "Naoko."

My name.

"Answer me!"

Silence.

I closed my eyes again and leaned my head back, staring up at what I assumed would have been the ceiling, but was instead the backs of my eyelids. After I had finally opened my mouth and answered one of their questions, it had occurred to me that they had no obligation to answer any of my questions, and so I had given up the one piece of information I knew. I had let my emotions get the best of me. I had failed.

Rule number five: failure is not an option.


	4. Chapter 4

Nothing else happened to me after my slip in the interrogation room. I was sent to a smaller prison, where I was chained to a wall to keep from going very far. I was fed everyday, but only small portions of what could hardly even be considered a meal in the first place. If it hadn't been for the occasional visits for food and going to the bathroom, I could have believed I had been forgotten.

It was hard to track the days in a prison. A small, barred window sat far above my head, too high for me to reach. When the sun would shine through it, I would stretch as far away from the wall as I could so I could lay in the small patch of sunlight. When night fell, I curled in on myself to stay warm. I was no longer tortured or hurt, but I was still a prisoner. There were no perks to being a prisoner.

Some days I slept a lot, and other days I didn't sleep at all. There were times when I would stay up and watch the sun rise, shine for the day, watch it set, and watch as the moon rose. There were times when I didn't eat, and there were times where I couldn't eat enough. I was never fully relieved of my hunger, and I was never completely quenched of my thirst.

My days blurred together at some point. I couldn't remember what my plan for escape had been, if I had even planned one in the first place. There was a part of me that wanted to believe that I was being sought after, and that wherever it was that I had come from, they still needed me there. It was nice to think you were needed somewhere. But then there was a part of me that was fond of telling me how stupid I was to think that I was needed anywhere. I had been captured. I had given away my most precious secret. I was a failure. No one has time for a failure.

When I had been captured, escaping was all I had wanted. Wherever home was, that was where I wanted to be. But as time passes, motivation slips, and desires fade to dust. Not only was I forgotten, but I wanted it to remain that way. I was not sought after. I was not needed in any way. I was going to be left here. I was going to die here.

At some point, this thought brought me comfort.

Sometimes I liked to close my eyes and forget where I was. It reminded me of what I could remember most about where I was from. It was always dark, but for some reason, it was never cold. Closing my eyes, opening my eyes, it didn't matter. I could never see anyway until I was let outside. Going outside didn't happen often, but when it did, we were sent out with other people. We were sent out on what we were told were called missions. A lot of us didn't come back, but that was okay. We had accepted this. When missions were over, we were locked up again and monitored. When stability returned, we were given another mission. More were lost. More tests. Repeat. A never ending cycle.

My moments in the sun were shortly lived and few and far between. It was not enough. It was never enough.

It was almost difficult to believe that I had gotten myself into this situation. I had fought numerous enemies at once, all alone, because everyone else had not survived. I had been the last one standing, for whatever reason, and I had come out successful, if a little broken and bruised. It never ceased to amaze me. And how could it be that I was here now? It was shameful. Why had I surrendered? Why had I not fought back! Was it pity for my comrade, a brand new addition to the group, and the last of five who had stood before him? What was it then, that had caused me to be so irrational. I could have fought. I could have won. I could have escaped. We could have escaped together. Instead I had sent him back with instructions to tell our superiors that I had been captured.

Was it because I hadn't wanted to go back? Was it because I had wanted to experience a world different to the one I had always known? One of the rules that had been drilled into us was that you could not change destiny. Could I truly have fought and won against twelve professionally trained shinobi? Was I under the impression that I was that strong?

I was sitting in this prison cell, chained to a wall, unable to walk more than five feet forward, and I thought I could defeat them. I was foolish. I turned, pressing my feet against the wall, and pushed. My shoulders popped and I grimaced. I had missed my small amount of time to lay in the sun. It was too far away. I had to wait. I sighed and stopped pushing, relaxing against the floor, staring up at the shadowy ceiling. In a few hours, or what I thought would be a few hours, the sun would be on the roof, taunting me, just out of my reach.

Suddenly a different kind of light stretched to the opposite side of the cell, bathing the wall in a dull, yellowy light. I frowned and turned my head to look up at two men, who were staring at me. They had a comical expression on their face; they were obviously wondering why I was stretched so far away from the wall. I twisted and sat up, folding my hands in my lap. I glared at them, and it was then that their expressions went from comical to serious in an instant. The guard that stood closest to me was the first to open his mouth.

"You're free to go," he said. He stepped forward to unlock the chains around my hands and ankles, but once I was free from my restraints, he grabbed my wrist and looked at me, unblinking. "Of course, you're not allowed to leave the village." He didn't look very happy about that.

"You are to wear this bracelet at all times," he held up what looked to be a simple chain link bracelet. "If you come within thirty feet of the Konoha barrier, ANBU will be notified directly. You are to be monitored at all times by a member of ANBU or the Uchiha Police Force. Should you choose to leave their side, you will be dealt with swiftly and immediately. By order of the Third Hokage, you are no longer a prisoner of this nation, but a citizen of Konohagakure."

Unable to move, I didn't fight the guard as he secured the bracelet around my wrist. A tingle went up my arm; I had another reason I shouldn't remove it. Once the bracelet was in place, another guard, the one standing closest to the door, stepped forward and held out his hand. Unsure of myself, I hesitated. In the end though, I grabbed his hand and he lifted me from the ground. I was unsteady on my feet, swaying a little, but he wrapped his arm around my waist and helped me walk. He didn't seem to mind helping me at all.

"It's a little cool out today," he said conversationally as we stepped out of the cell and walked down a long corridor. "Would you like a sweater, Naoko?"

My heart skipped a beat. "Please."

"She speaks after all!" The other guard exclaimed with a lopsided grin. "I'll be back in a moment Ginjiro."

As we waited, I glanced at the man named Ginjiro out of the corner of my eye. He had a small smile on his face, and he was still supporting the majority of my weight with his arm. I frowned and looked down at the ground. I didn't understand. Why was I being treated like this when, moments ago, I had been a prisoner?

"I hope it fits," the other guard said apologetically, rounding the corner and walking towards Ginjiro and I. "This was the smallest one we had and, well... you've lost a lot of uh..."

"I understand," I whispered, reaching for the sweater. "Thank you."

My hands were shaking badly as I tried to put it on, so instead of fighting with it, I just draped it over my shoulders and pulled it tight around me. When I was done, we began walking towards the doors that would lead me to the outside. I took a deep breath, and when I felt the sun on my skin, I couldn't help but smile. It felt nice.

"You look happy," Ginjiro noted, looking down on me. I nodded once.

"It is warm."

He frowned, "I guess. Keita," he was addressing the other guard now. "Where is that damned Uchiha?"

"Calm down, he was sent on a long mission. He's only just returned today, so give him a little break. He gets run into the ground sometimes. He might still be resting. Until he gets here, we could show Naoko the boundary lines."

A prisoner again.

"That's not our job."

A burden.

"It still needs to get done."

A chore.

"We have more important things to do."

"May I sit?" I asked quietly.

"Of course!" Ginjiro said quickly, as though remembering he was still supporting me. Turning us around and setting me carefully on a nearby bench, he asked, "Will you be alright here for a moment? I need to speak with Keita."

"I will be," I said. He smiled, patted my shoulder, then walked a ways away so I couldn't hear them. I folded my hands in my lap and stared at the ground, kicking my feet back and forth; they barely even reached the ground. I sighed and watched them argue out of the corner of my eye. I wanted to know what was going on, who this Uchiha person was, and if they would pretend to be as nice as Ginjiro and Keita.

"Oi, Shisui!" Ginjiro suddenly shouted. Keita glanced over his shoulder quickly and glared at the advancing boy. He had black hair and equally dark eyes, but an amiable smile. "You're late!"

"I'm tired," Shisui rolled his eyes. "Give me a break, Keita!" He glanced at me and then back to the guys. "So I hear I'm playing warden. Is that the girl?"

Ginjiro nodded. Shisui's eyes widened. "You mean to tell me Danzō is afraid of this little girl?"

Keita grimaced and covered his mouth as he whispered something to Shisui. He nodded sagely, pushed past the duo, and plopped down beside me. He was alarmingly close.

"Uchiha Shisui, at your service!" He said with a grin.

I hesitated. "Naoko."

Shisui was about to say something when Keita interrupted. "That's all she goes by. I don't think she knows anything about herself. Inoichi couldn't find anything except for a bunch of rules, and Ibiki couldn't get anything out of her except for her name, but that was at the tail end of the interrogation. Can you believe she lasted that long? Grown men can hardly stand up to Ibiki and his torture prowess. She even had the guts to ask questions, from what I hear!"

Shisui stared at me, his expression half amused, half bewildered, and half in awe. Obviously people like me were a rarity, but I didn't understand what people like me entitled. I knew I was not being treated like a normal prisoner. What did they know that I did not?

"So," Shisui grinned suddenly. "Shall we get started?"


	5. Chapter 5

The tour of my "new home" began at the Hokage's building. Shisui told me that the Hokage was our leader and protector, and the most powerful shinobi to live in the village. It was why he was the Hokage in the first place. We didn't go inside the building, but it was impressive; unlike anything I had ever seen.

Three dome-like fixtures sat beside each other, the tallest of the three sitting towards the front. The walls, which I could believe had probably once been a fiery shade of crimson, were now a boring and washed out shade of red. At the top of the building, bold and daring, sat the symbol of fire.

After a few more moments of admiring the building, he led me in the direction of a building that I found less impressive, but just as intimidating and remarkable. The building appeared to tower three or four stories high; I wasn't entirely sure. Trying to stare up at the building to determine how many floors there were was hurting my neck.

"This is the Ninja Academy," Shisui said with a fond smile. "It's where little punks like you go to school." He paused, then looked down at me. "By the way, how old are you?"

I glanced at him from the corner of my eye. He was serious.

"I don't... understand," I whispered, looking down at my feet. "Forgive me."

He laughed. "Alright then. Do you know your birthday at least?"

"Birth-day?"

I didn't know whether his expression was supposed to be comical or not. Most of what he said didn't make any sense to me. He sighed and lifted his hands up to rub his face. When he looked down on me again, I cringed and shut my eyes as tight as I could. He cleared his throat.

"Well, based on facial expressions, body movements, and uh," a cough, "development, I would guess that you're about ten years old. You're too short to be any older," he waved his hand over my head, smirking, "and you sound too smart to be any younger."

Was this a compliment?

"Ten years old?"

"Yup," he nodded, looking back at the Academy. "It means you were born ten years ago. Do you remember your family at all?"

I frowned and pulled my sweater tighter over my shoulders. I couldn't recall ever having a family. What was a family? I had seen a woman walking with a small child a long time ago. She had been smiling and holding his hand, and he had been laughing. There had been tears in his eyes. I hadn't understood then, and I still didn't understand now. It was all so different to me.

"Will I attend this school?" I asked him.

Shisui grinned. "Oh yeah, you're a citizen now, so you will have to once things settle down a little bit. Right now some political stuff is going on, but it's nothing you need to worry about."

I nodded once and looked at the building again. I wasn't sure how much I wanted to go. There would be lots of other children there, but they would not be like me. I wondered what that meant. Did they have families? Older women that walked with them and held their hands, laughing and smiling, with tears in their eyes; did they have that? What was so special about that? I frowned. This is my home now. Or at least, I suppose it is. Even if I wanted to, I couldn't go back to the place I had come from.

Wherever that was.

"Okay!" Shisui shouted, clapping his hands together. I startled and then sighed. "Next stop on the Shisui Express: your house!"

I didn't speak much more after we left the school, but Shisui was fine with filling the uncomfortable silence with mindless banter. He went on and on about the village and how much I would like it here. He was very fond of talking about the food, which led me to believe he ate a lot, but it didn't look like he did. As we walked, he talked about the villagers and how kind they could be. Shisui told me a few stories about how they had helped him train by letting him do chores that required a lot of physical activity. However, he only did such things for the elderly.

Along the way, Shisui stopped and introduced me to some of these people, telling me that they would help me if I ever needed it. I smiled as best as I knew how, told them my name, thanked them; it was only when we left that I could allow myself to relax.

The people here were strange and difficult to understand. Shisui had not been lying when he said they were kind people. I believed him, especially after meeting some of the villagers. It was exactly that though—their kindness—that made me unable to understand. If they knew who I was, where I had come from, would they be so kind then? If they knew I was a prisoner, would they smile and offer to help me?

I had prepared myself for torture, ridicule, and hate. But never in my wildest dreams had I imagined being accepted into a community in this way; even as a prisoner. I had believed that once I had given up, because I knew that fighting for very long was in vain when no one was coming to help you, I was going to be killed and forgotten. Once they had the information they wanted, I would no longer serve a purpose. I would be disposed of. And yet, here I was, being treated like any other normal girl.

Like a human being.

When we stopped walking, we stopped in front of a long, ovular building that stood five stories high. The building itself was an off white color, and the roof tiles were an ugly shade of orange. Everything here looked so washed and faded. I grimaced. To my right, Shisui laughed.

"I know it's not much, but it's all we can offer at such short notice. Also, you don't have anyone here who can give you a place—"

"Because I'm a prisoner."

"No, no, no!" He insisted. "Not anymore! You're—"

I frowned. "Do not like to me, Shisui-san."

He fell silent. After a few seconds, he walked ahead, leading the way into the apartment building. The inside was as unkempt as the outside, but I held back my disapproval. I was a prisoner. I had no right to have any dislikes. I should be glad to even catch a glimpse of daylight. I should be very grateful that I was spared.

Shisui stopped before an unremarkable door. "Home sweet home."

He grabbed my hand and dropped a shining silver key into my palm. "Enjoy your stay in Konohagakure, Naoko-san." He swept a bow. "If you need anything at all, please do not hesitate to ask."

When he was gone, I unlocked my door and stepped inside. When the door was locked once more, I slid to the ground. When I was on the ground, I pulled my knees up to my chest and closed my eyes.

Finally, some normalcy.


	6. Chapter 6

Night fell.

My room became dark; almost too dark to see five feet ahead of me. I hadn't moved in forever, or rather, what seemed like it. I was still sitting in my little corner of the world; right in front of my door. If I looked up, I could see that there was no moon out tonight; the proof of that was my view of the window. Clouds, thick and heavy, hid any form of light. It was dark, I was tired, and I didn't want to sleep. My body felt heavy. If I wanted to move, I couldn't even hope to at the moment. It was impossible; my body would not listen.

And so I continued to sit there, wondering what would happen to me. I was _living _Konoha now, and I would be going to school soon. Whenever soon was. I was hoping it was going to be a long time from now. No one really knew who I was. I was new here. I was an outsider, yet they greeted me so graciously. But if they knew me, certainly they would hate me. If they hated me, then I could only guess what kind of hell my life would be like then.

And then I began to panic.

I had never felt fear before. It crept upon me, slowly but surely; it was here now. What would I do? If I was asked where I was from, what would I say? What was my story? What did my life mean at all? Why was I here? Why? Where? How? So many questions swirling around in my head, and yet only one answer showed its ugly face: you're no one. You do not belong. You have no home. I slid my fingers into my hair and tugged hard, hissing at the pain. It would shut me up. It would quiet these thoughts. I sighed, letting go of my hair and dragging my hands down my face. Something cold touched my cheek, and looking down into my palm, I saw my key.

I stared at it for a long time, turning it about in my palm, this way and that, examining it closely. It was unscratched and new; silver and cold—foreign. I inhaled and exhaled loudly. Then again. And again.

And then I stood, my arm brushing up against a light switch in the process. A humble light flickered on over a small table ten paces away with two chairs sitting on either side. It was a welcome sight, however; what caught my attention was not the table, but the sliding glass door beyond the table. I walked over to it, taking one small step after another, very aware of my lack of balance. The world seemed to sit at an angle tonight.

I leaned against the glass for support, gripped the handle and pulled—the door didn't budge. I leaned down and checked the lock. It was unlocked, but it wouldn't move. Had it somehow been sealed? Of course it had! I was a prisoner, for God's sake, I couldn't be allowed even the simplest of freedoms. Even then, I still tried to open the door. I yanked and pulled until my hands were burning and aching and I finally went crashing into the table.

I screamed in frustration, lashing out against the table. Ever since I had allowed myself to be captured, I had been holding in everything I had felt since then. I had kept myself from letting my emotions take hold of me. There was no room in this life to let anger or sadness, or any other emotion for that matter, get the best of you. I glared down at the bracelet on my wrist. I cursed under my breath and kicked the chair, but it didn't budge.

Just like the door.

I growled under my breath and kicked the chair again. This time it went tumbling to the floor with a satisfying clatter and then crack. Shaking, I took a deep breath to steady myself. Was my lack of freedom worth losing control like this? I turned and looked at the door. Then strengthening my resolve, I picked up the fallen chair when I had risen to my feet, leveled it, and then swung it at the glass. The window shattered, spraying glass onto the balcony. With the only thing keeping me from going outside gone, I stepped through the gaping hole, ignoring the fact that I was barefoot.

Cool air whipped my hair about my face. I smiled to myself and spread my arms out, reveling in the feeling of the fresh air. The bottoms of my feet stung a little, but they were warm, so I didn't really care. I knew it could only be a matter of time before I was surrounded, restrained, and thrown back into a cell; probably for life this time. I walked forward a little more, and then sat down in the glass, not really caring that it dug into my skin. I couldn't really feel it anyway.

I closed my eyes and began humming under my breath.

"That's a interesting song."

I didn't respond and just kept humming, ignoring the fact that I could feel the air throbbing around me. I closed my eyes tighter, hummed louder, and focused on the thunder in the distance. I didn't want to go yet. It was warm where I was sitting. It was peaceful. Why was it so difficult to get some peace in this damned village? Why couldn't I sit alone and sing without being watched and questioned?

"Naoko—"

"Do not speak!" I snapped, opening my eyes to glare at the boy standing to my left. He was staring at me, his eyes the saddest I'd seen them all day. I looked away and up at the sky, wishing for the rain to come before I was taken away. "I do not wish to listen."

They just kept coming.

No peace.

"You are in no place to make orders or have wishes, girl."

I could feel my heart twist painfully in my chest. Why was it painful now when it meant nothing before? "I have a name."

"You have a label," the man shouted. "Not a name!"

I pressed my hands against the ground, rubbing my fingers against the glass. I looked down at my hands and stared, mesmerized by the crimson pools that were rapidly getting bigger. It was warm. I did not want to move.

"Captain, she's bleeding," someone whispered.

"What was she thinking!"

They all fell silent when I looked up. I didn't know what they saw, but there was an expression that could be compared to horror on all of their faces. I turned and looked at Shisui. He was the exception. His expression was not horrified; just very sad. I don't know why, but it hurt to look at him more than it hurt to look at the others. And so I looked back down at the alarmingly large puddles of blood. I felt very light.

"I am no one," I whispered. "I have no home." I closed my eyes. "I am very tired."

I fell.


	7. Chapter 7

"She's crazy!" Someone hissed. "We can't keep her here. You saw what she did last night. Captain, she sat in glass and didn't want to be moved. Even after she fainted, she struggled against us."

"There is a lot we do not know about that girl."

"Exactly!" The other man argued. "Which is precisely why we need to get rid of her as soon as possible."

A new voice spoke. "There is much we can learn from her."

"Know your place, Uchiha! Don't speak out of turn!"

"Be quiet, Lieutenant. Let him speak his piece," the captain said calmly. "Go on. I am listening."

The unknown voice hesitated. "When she was captured, she made no resistance. But now she's showing signs of instability. It's not difficult to believe that whatever has been keeping her calm is losing influence over her. We still know nothing about her, but what we know is that she was trained very well. Her pain tolerance is remarkable, and her strength—"

"Ha ha! Strength! Do you mean busting out of house arrest with a wooden chair? Like that hasn't been done before—"

"Lieutenant! You will hold your tongue in the presence of your superiors."

"Yes, sir," the man grumbled. "My apologies, sir. It won't happen again, sir."

"Very good. Now, please continue Uchiha-san."

There was a tense silence. "I believe the girl should be spared. She obviously requires stability in her life, if she cannot remember the first thing about her past."

Another awkward silence. "And how do you propose we do that?"

Their voices dropped into an inaudible whisper. Maybe they knew I was awake and didn't want me to hear the rest of what they were saying. Or maybe it wasn't because they knew I was awake, but was a precautionary measure they always took around people like me. It was understandable, seeing as how I was a prisoner, but if they were talking about me, I still wanted to know. The atmosphere was heavy; it pressed down on me and made it difficult to breathe. I couldn't remember much of what happened last night. I knew I had broken that door—and the chair for that matter—but everything else was a sort of blur. I could remember lots of blood, but I couldn't remember who it had come from.

The hissing voices stopped suddenly. It was then that I chose to officially wake up.

"Lieutenant, inform the nurses she has woken."

A door opened and closed. More silence.

"Naoko," said the captain's voice. "How are you feeling?"

I thought about that. "Thirsty."

A faucet turned on and glasses clinked. "Uchiha, sit her up for me."

Gentle hands pulled me into a sitting position and held me there as the captain held the glass to my lips, making me drink. The water was gone in a matter of seconds. I glanced down at my hands which were heavily bandaged. When I moved my legs, they throbbed.

"I'm very sorry." I whispered. The captain chuckled.

"For what?"

"I acted bad. Please forgive me."

The boy I had never seen before and the captain exchanged uneasy glances.

"You should kill me."

"No," the unknown boy said.

I rounded on him. "That is not your choice! It is my life!"

"We can't kill you," the captain said, "and while you're correct, it's not your choice either."

"But it's the best thing." I looked away from them and closed my eyes. "For the village, I mean."

"How do you figure?" The boy asked.

I didn't answer at first. It was a good question. How could I think that killing me off and forgetting about me would be better for their village? It was a simple answer, and one that I thought that they should have known. Even the lieutenant had known it and had wanted it from the start. There was no way they didn't know what I was talking about.

"Even the lieutenant said it. I'm crazy. I do not belong. I am your enemy."

The captain sighed, almost as though he were silently apologizing for his subordinate's rudeness. "We haven't proven that yet."

"Yet," I said quietly. "But you haven't said I was wrong. That's what I'm waiting the hear; that is the answer I want. Tell me, Captain, do I belong here?"

They were silent, which was the only answer I needed. It was then that the nurse chose to make her appearance. I was asked trivial questions, such as, "Are you nauseous?" or "Does it feel too hot or too cold?" or my favorite, "Do you remember anything?" When the questionnaire was over, she moved on to changing my bandages out for new, less bloody ones.

"Her wounds!" The nurse gasped. "Why, they're gone!"

The captain was by my bed in that instant. "How is that possible?"

"I—I don't know!" The nurse flipped my hands over and over again, checking for the gaping wounds that were no longer there. I sighed and stared at the ceiling, waiting for everything to be over with. I wanted to sleep now. As though remembering that there was more than one area with damage, she emitted another horrified gasp. She yanked away my blanket, shamelessly lifted my hospital gown, and tore at the gauze covering my thighs and feet. I kept my expression as neutral as possible, ignoring them.

"They're gone! They're all gone!"

I glanced at her from the corner of my eyes. She looked ready to pass out. Her skin was pale and she was shaking. I didn't know if she was new to this job, but she shouldn't be so upset over a few missing scrapes. This was nothing new to me.

"Is this not a good thing?" I asked her, returning my gaze to the ceiling. I didn't know if she had the capability to answer at that point, because I didn't get an answer. "Should I continue to bleed? Would this be a normal thing?"

I allowed myself a small, and what I hoped to be imperceptible, smile. I still hadn't gotten an answer. Not to my questions for the nurse or for the captain. "As you wish."

The nurse fainted.


	8. Chapter 8

Unlike my first few weeks in Konoha, my current room was bright. The bed was comfortable, there was a window, and I could leave my room whenever I wanted. I wasn't chained to a wall, there were no bars, and I ate everyday, three times a day. In fact, they made sure that I never skipped a meal, and ate every last bite. I considered being a prisoner and a lab rat to be two very similar things.

For one, while I could freely walk about the facility, I was _not _allowed by any means to walk outside of the building. For two, while I was treated like a regular person, there were times when I was forced to lay down and allow blood and other types of things to be taken from my body. I had no say in the matter. There were days when they took no samples, and then there were days when they took so much blood, I wouldn't be able to walk in a straight like for a week. This was normal.

Apparently, bleeding at will and healing deep gashes overnight is not a skill a human possesses. This, to them, was most certainly not normal. I had never thought anything of it. It had always been something I could do. In a tough battle, where acting like I was on the verge of death was the only way I could live, I bled a little more than needed. In times where I needed to recover quickly, I didn't bleed hardly at all and my wounds vanished within a matter of minutes. My body did all the work for me. It had never been something I could control. If I thought I needed to be healed, I was healed. If I felt the need to bleed a little, I bled a lot. I supposed it was based on the small thoughts that I pushed into my subconscious, and then it happened. Almost instantaneously.

The problems with trying to test for any special gifts or medicines in my body were that I healed so fast, I bled too much and they were afraid of cutting me open, or I didn't bleed at all. The days where they took no samples were the days I didn't bleed at all. When they stuck needles in me to get blood, nothing came out. The first time this had happened it threw the scientists into a panic, but when they tested me, I was perfectly healthy. There was nothing wrong with me. They were alarmed by this.

I didn't know how long I had been inside the hospital—the laboratory part of the hospital, that is. It could have been weeks or months, but it was impossible to tell how many days had gone by when the sun and the moon were your only indicators that a day had even passed. They made sure to keep me from knowing the little details. I asked very little of them, but they gave me what I thought was everything they could. No courtesy was spared.

"Do you feel anything?" I glanced down at the nurse, staring at the needle in my skin with disinterest. I sighed and shook my head, knocking my heels against the side of my bed. This was a normal morning routine. After I woke up and ate, they took blood; or at least they tried to. "Pain, fatigue, nausea?"

I shook my head ahead. "Nothing at all."

"Do you have any idea about how this gift you have occurs?" She asked casually, removing the needle and bandaging my arm. "It might be something you inherited from your family."

I frowned. "I do not know," I said. "I don't have a family."

The nurse smiled kindly. "We all have families, even if they aren't related to you at all. It could be friends that you have. But do you remember your mother or father at all?"

"I've never had a mother." I looked away from the nurse and her kind smile. "Or a father."

"I can't imagine a child without her mother or father," the nurse sighed. "Every little girl needs someone to look after them."

"I'm sorry." I said. "I don't know anything about that."

She patted my knee, effectively catching my attention. She stood and sat beside me. "I think what you can do is a special gift from your mother."

"My... mother?"

"Yes," she smiled, putting her arm around my shoulder. "A long time ago, centuries before you or I was born, there was a priestess who traveled everywhere, healing people of diseases and fatal wounds. She was revered as a type of goddess who'd been sent from heaven." The nurse nodded. "She would take some of her blood and give it to people. And then they were miraculously healed; it was as if they had never been sick before."

"I only heal myself." I remarked. "I've never heard of this woman."

"Well listen," the nurse said with a frown. "I don't know if it's true or not, but the legend says that she fell in love and had a child, but before she could raise her child, the man she fell in love with was mortally wounded."

"What happened?"

"She healed him of course," the nurse smiled again, but it was a very sad smile. "At the cost of her own life. He lived, but she died in his place. He took care of the child for as long as he could, but he eventually lost his mind. He went missing, and so did the child."

"You think I'm that child!" I leaned away from her, but she only laughed.

"Of course not! Do you know how old you would have to be?" She laughed again. "I just think it would be interesting if you were descended from this great priestess. Her gift was remarkable, and so is yours."

I grimaced. "That would have been a very long time ago." I glanced at her, but she was still smiling. It was kind of unnerving. "How could I have inherited something that someone had so long ago?"

"It's called a kekkei genkai."

"Kekkei... genkai?"

The nurse nodded. "Not everyone in the family will develop this gift, but there is always the potential for it. Sometimes it skips generation after generation, but then it will randomly manifest sooner or later. I've only heard about it from stories about the priestess. You and that woman are quite possibly the only people who've owned this ability."

I nodded once, thinking about it. The nurse smiled, patted my knee, and left with my blood. When she closed the door to my room, I fell back against my bed, thinking about the possibilities of having such a gift. If I could heal not only myself, but others with just a little bit of my blood, I could only imagine what kind of help I could be to the ones who went out and fought. The shinobi who had to leave their families with the fear of them never coming back; could it be possible for me to make those fears go away?

I sat up and turned to stare out my window. The sky was a bright shade of blue; it was a beautiful day today, from what I could see. But what about the things I couldn't see?

It was hard to believe I was something special. The nurse made it seem like having a kekkei genkai was very rare, which wasn't unbelievable, but still difficult to wrap my mind around. What gave me the ability to have this gift in the first place? What allowed the priestess to have the gift? Had she really been sent from heaven to perform miracles, like the nurse had said?

I rolled my eyes and pulled my knees up to my chest. That just wasn't possible.

Or was it?

There were still things I had never seen or done. How could I think that something I had never known about could be impossible? Nothing was impossible. It was ignorant of me to think some things were impossible. Me being here was proof of that. I had thought I was going to die sooner or later, but I had been treated with nothing but kindness after I became a 'citizen' of Konohagakure. Even if it was false kindness.

But that thought brought me to Shisui. I sighed and held my legs tighter. He hadn't visited me once since I had been put into the hospital. Of course I hadn't expected him to, but it was just one of those thoughts that allowed me to get through the day. It was the thought of what if he did. It was the thought of, what if he did come and see me, and it was because he wanted to, and not because he was ordered to. But why would he want to see me? I had a suspicion that the night on the balcony had changed his thoughts about me. I figured I was no longer just some little girl.

I was a prisoner again. I was an enemy again.

I grimaced and held my hand over my heart. It was beating fast and hard against my chest, but it had done that before. The only difference was that now it hurt. Why? This was a new feeling for me. I had run for miles, and my heart would race uncontrollably, but never like this. It had never hurt before. Why, when I thought about him, did it hurt?

If he didn't want to see me, that was enough. It would end there. Only it didn't. The one thing that remained clear to me from that night was his expression. It had hurt then, too, but in a different way. Looking at him had hurt. But now it hurt to think about him too. His expression back then had been sad. Whether it was because of what I did or what he knew would happen, I was unsure. Looking into his eyes that night though, I had realized a sort of truth about myself. It seemed weird for me to say something like that, but it was true.

How had I managed to get myself into this mess? I had thought about it once, while I was still truly a prisoner. The difference between now and then was that I hadn't cared, and now I cared very much. The truth was that I wanted to live. The truth was that I wanted to be cared for.


	9. Chapter 9

After a few more days of testing, they let me go back home. I was kind of surprised they hadn't told me exactly why I could bleed whenever I wanted, mainly because I would have thought that, since it was my body, they would have told me what was going on with it. But I guess not even I was allowed to know.

In my absence, my apartment had been repaired to its former non-glory, and for whatever reason, it kind of irritated me. I had been hoping to walk into my little apartment and look at the mess I had made. I was kind of hoping that looking at it would allow me to remember everything that had happened that night. But now I was free, on three terms: I did not break anything in my home, I answered all questions truthfully, and obeyed every command I was given. For anyone else, this would have been asking for too much, but for me, it was a ridiculously small price for the life I didn't deserve here.

My days passed slowly, and I spent the majority of those days walking around the village, observing its occupants, walking through shops, and finding new hideouts, even though I was always being followed. I usually left my home three or five times a day, and stayed out for longer than a few hours. In the morning I walked through the village, then I went back home long enough to eat, then left again to wander and look through the shops. I went back home to rest, then left again. Then I wandered through the forest, looking for places to relax as close to my thirty foot limit as I dared.

I could never leave without a guard following me from a distance. It became a nuisance at some point, and made me wonder why they even let me leave my home. They stayed fifty feet away; clearly out of sight, but I could feel them surrounding me. They never left me with less than three guards at any time, or more than five.

Even when I was at home, doing nothing more than laying in my bed and staring at the ceiling, there were guards everywhere. Always on the rooftop or one making conversation to a civilian outside, trying to appear casual as they kept watch over the building. I had no visitors. I was alone this time, and I was very lonely.

Sometimes I didn't leave my house at all, and those were the days that I found a loophole in my conditions, and carved pictures into the wall above my bed. My pictures were child-like and meaningless: a cat that I had seen sleeping on my balcony or a tree. The one that actually meant something though was the picture of the sun. It was bigger than the others; much bigger. It sat proudly over the head of my bed, shining down on me. If I closed my eyes, I could imagine its warmth at night before I fell asleep. In my dreams, it was summer time, and I was free; completely free, with no boundary lines, no curfews, no rules.

But dreams didn't last forever. When I woke up, it was very cold. Reality was heartless.

"There's my favorite prisoner!"

"You are not funny."

Today was one of those days that I didn't want to leave my house, but I also didn't want to stay inside all day, so I settled for laying on the balcony. At first I had been kind of apprehensive about coming out here, but then when I discovered the lack of bloodstains, it didn't matter anymore. I should have figured that they would have even cleaned up the smallest drop and corrected the smallest blemish.

Shisui had, for whatever reason, suddenly manifested on my balcony and was leaning casually against the railing with his arms crossed over his chest. He was a sight for sore eyes, but I ignored him, still bitter about the weeks and months he had left me on my own.

"Why are you here?"

"Thought you might want some company," he shrugged.

"Where have you been?"

He hesitated. "Around. Here and there."

"What have you been doing?"

"Oh, this and that," he said casually, waving it off.

I sighed. "I see."

He didn't say anything, and I found the silence unbearable. When I had first met him, I couldn't get him to shut up, and now what I had wanted from the first day was being granted now. I found it unfair and ill-timed.

"I also thought you might like some good news," Shisui said suddenly, as though he had just remembered something. But it was obvious to me that he was picking his words carefully. "Some of the Elders think you need to be given something to do. Something recreational—"

"No."

"Let me finish!" He glared at me, but then he was all smiles. "Or educational."

I frowned. "The Academy?"

"Precisely that!" Shisui exclaimed. "They want you to start going to school."

"I don't know," I said, sitting up and pulling my knees against my chest. "What about the other kids?"

"You're a kid, too, kid!" Shisui waved his hands around again to make it seem like it was no big deal. "You'll be fine."

I was doubtful. "I'm not like them—"

"Will it make you feel better if I walk you to school everyday?"

"No."

He looked insulted. "And why not?"

"Don't go out of your way to do things for me," I snapped, closing my eyes so I didn't have to look at him. "I already know that I don't deserve it. You and I both know what I did a while ago, and I know that's why you haven't been here to see me." _I needed to be quiet._ "If you don't want to be here, then don't be here. I don't need you to babysit me!" _I'm sorry._ "I'll understand." _I don't mean it._

"For such a smart kid," Shisui snapped, "you really are stupid."

I opened my eyes and stared at him. He was glaring at me, his arms still crossed over his chest, his hands clenched into fists. He shook his head and looked away, staring out over the village.

"You don't understand anything," he seethed. "But you pretend to know everything."

I was speechless. "Shisui—"

"Let me talk," he turned to look at me again. He was visibly calmer. "That night has nothing to do with me not being here. I wanted to be there to make sure you were okay, but I was sent on a mission the very next day. I hadn't even known you were awake until a week after I had returned. Do you know who told me?"

I shook my head.

"My cousin told me, because no one else would. I told him I was worried about you and he said you had been awake for a long time." Shisui sighed and sat down beside me. "That night I saw you here, sitting in that glass, bleeding as much as you were... I realized that you were different in more ways than you think. I can't describe it, but the expression on your face when you looked at me..." he shuddered. "It made me sad."

"I'm sorry." I pulled my knees closer and hugged them tighter, hiding my face. "I'm very sorry I—I just—"

"Everything will be okay," he said, interrupting me. I glanced at him, and he was smiling. It was a sad smile, but it was a genuine smile. "Do you trust me?"

I frowned, thinking for a moment. And then I nodded, surprising myself. And then he grinned and held out his hand that I did not hesitate in taking.

And then, the most unexpected thing of all: he hugged me.


	10. Chapter 10

The one skill a ninja must possess, if nothing else, is determination. When a mission gets tough a weak shinobi will get discouraged and give up, but a strong shinobi will plow ahead despite the odds.

However, school was not a mission. It was a death sentence.

"Shisui, I change my mind." I said as I stared up at the building. "I don't want to go."

He chuckled. "No take backs."

"What am I supposed to say!" I exclaimed, pulling my hair. "Hello, my name is Naoko. I am a prisoner of your village. I am your enemy. Be my friend."

"Just be yourself; they'll love you." He assured me. "If they ask where you're from, tell them this is your home now. Trust me, they won't question it."

I frowned. "I don't want to go, Shisui. Don't make me."

Shisui gripped my shoulder and stared down at me. I didn't realize until then just how much taller he was than me. "Naoko, don't worry about. The people here are very nice, contrary to your beliefs—or rather, your fears."

"I do not fear them!"

He grinned. "Great! Then go get 'em, kiddo!"

"No!" I twisted out from under his hand and threw my arms around his waist, squeezing my eyes shut. "I won't go!"

"Naoko," Shisui unwrapped my arms from around his waist and sat on his knees so we could be at eye level. "Last night you said you trusted me. Am I correct?"

"You are."

"Then go. I've already graduated, so I couldn't stay with you even if I wanted to."

"Would you if you could?" I whispered.

"For as long as you needed me," he smiled and ruffled my hair. "Now, do what I said and go get 'em!"

I smiled, wrapped my arms around his neck in a quick hug, then ran in the direction of the school. Every time my feet hit the ground, I could feel my sudden enthusiasm waning until I stopped running all together. When I turned to look at Shisui, he was gone. I bit my lip and kept walking, the piece of paper that held my room number feeling heavier with ever step that I took.

When I walked inside, there were kids everywhere. Some of them look as worried as I was, the others looked like they sincerely didn't want to be there; there were circles under their eyes and they glared daggers at the smaller children who leaped and ran about with alarming energy.

I yelped in surprise when the bell rang, and all the kids disappeared, almost instantaneously. I glanced down at my paper and sighed, looking at the stairs and then looking at the doors on the first floor. I needed to go up the stairs. As I made my way up, I took deep breaths, thinking to myself that my first day in school needed to go quickly and smoothly. I didn't want to be asked too many questions, and I didn't want to bed stared at.

When I reached the top of the stairs, my classroom was the first door to my left, and the door was still open. When I peered inside, the class seemed to be in the middle of introductions. A taller girl with pretty brown hair and sharp blue eyes smiled brilliantly and returned to her seat in the very front of the classroom. I leaned a little further in an attempt to get a larger view of the class without being seen, but stumbled into the classroom, where everyone turned their eyes on me. I was the center of attention.

"You must be the new transfer!" The teacher exclaimed, clapping her hands together beneath her chin. She hurried towards me with quick, light steps and guided me further into the classroom with a firm hand on my shoulder. "You have impeccable timing! We were just about to begin the lesson when you showed up. Why don't you be the finale of our introductions! Tell everyone your name."

Without being given the chance to scream no in reply, I was yanked and shoved into the middle of the classroom. There wasn't a place I couldn't be seen. All the eyes of the students were on me, bored and unimpressed looking as they waited for me to summon the courage to even open my mouth. I took a deep breath and cleared my throat.

"I am called Naoko."

"What a marvelous name!" The teacher sighed. "Where did you come from Naoko?"

"I, um," I looked around at all of the unfamiliar and unforgiving faces of my classmates. My heart tightened painfully in my chest. "My home is here. I do not wish to speak of the past."

A girl—the same girl with the pretty brown hair and brilliant smile—snickered. She sat in the front row, her chin resting in the palm of her right hand. Her blue eyes twinkled with malice. Her left hand shot into the air.

"Yes, Tsubame?"

The girl bit back another round of laughter. "Are you an orphan?"

I frowned, uncomprehending. "I am not."

"Then what's your last name?"

I panicked. "Uchiha."

Murmurs floated around the classroom and some of the girls twisted in their seats, turning to whisper with their friends. The boys looked unimpressed for the most part, and few even went so far as to roll their eyes and shake their heads as if they didn't believe it. The girl name Tsubame made a noise in the back of her throat.

"I don't believe that," she sneered, curling her upper lip in disdain. "I bet you're lying. You don't even look like an Uchiha."

I didn't know what to say to that, so I merely shrugged and crossed my arms, making a sad attempt at trying to look unfazed. Tsubame rolled her eyes and leaned back in her seat without another word. The teacher chose that moment to hush the class and ask me more questions.

"So, Naoko. Tell us somethings about yourself before we move on." She said kindly.

"What do you mean?"

She shrugged. "Your favorite color, your favorite food, what you like to wear, what season do you like... just some things about you."

I nodded. "Well," I hesitated, and then smiled a little bit. "I like the summer time. It's really warm."

The teacher laughed. "Don't we all!" Okay, Naoko, time to be seated. Pick any seat in the room."

Almost immediately, the class seemed to shift. Tsubame whirled in her seat and snapped her fingers in the direction of the empty seats beside her, and the two girls sitting behind her rushed to be beside her. A group of boys filled their empty seats with their belongings. The only seat that I even wanted was in the back of the room next to a dark skinned boy with bright blonde hair. Whether or not it was natural, I was unsure.

I hurried up the aisle. "May I sit here?" I asked quietly. He glanced up at me, his green eyes narrowing. He observed me for less than ten seconds, and then after a brief pause with his eyes closed, he nodded and turned back to the lesson. I sat.

Class began.

* * *

**A/N: Okay guys, so I want you ****honest ****opinion. I am currently rewriting this story in third person in a different notebook, adding more detail than I could ever hope for with this FPOV version. I think it's a lot better. And I want you guys to tell me what you think I should do. **

**a: should I just replace these chapters with TPOV...?**

**or**

**b: should I upload the TPOV in a whole new story, titled exactly the same, with the exact same everything, except for the content...?**

**Tell me in a review. Give me your personal opinion on this story. I want to finish it, so bad to the point where I'm already plotting a part two, but I'm terrified this part sucks! So I want to know. Keep or replace? Your call. You are my faithful readers/reviews/followers/favoriters.**


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